Hot For Teacher
by FrameofMind
Summary: AU. As the summer heat lingers into September, Kaoru falls hard for her adorable Physics TA. But there may be more to Kenshin Himura than meets the eye...
1. Thermodynamics

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kenshin. Also, I know absolutely nothing about the study of physics, so please forgive any rookie mistakes… ;)

**Author's Note:** So, I promised myself I wouldn't do this anymore, but…I need a kick in the rear to keep me moving on my original project. ;) So using a certain perverse logic, I've decided to start posting this half-finished multi-chapter fanfic in the hopes that it will give me the ego-boost I need to keep plugging away on other things.

Just so you know, even though this story is only half-written at the moment, I do promise to finish it. My outline calls for ten chapters, and it's already more-or-less written through ch 5. (I started it as a lighthearted counterpoint to the more serious thing I'm working on—didn't really intend to post it anywhere, but now I'm sort of getting into it…) It's also my first foray into RuroKen AU territory. And it is rated M for a reason, but I'm hoping to keep things clean enough to be FF-safe…

**Hot For Teacher**

_Chapter 1: Thermodynamics_

The room was much too hot for comfort. It was always a hit or miss situation on this campus—some of the newly renovated buildings actually had decent air conditioning systems and even fresh, unstained carpeting, and chairs with writing desks that weren't broken or squeaky. Her French class even had a nice view of the park. But unfortunately Kaoru's 9 a.m. theoretical physics recitation was not in one of the new buildings—it was in the great hulking dinosaur that housed the College of Arts and Sciences, where each floor looked like an entirely different building from all the rest, and occasionally you had to wind through a twisting maze of windowless corridors and up and down funny little half-flights of stairs to find the right classroom. She'd been almost ten minutes late today because she had accidentally taken a right instead of a left and circled around back to where she'd started without even realizing it. And someone else had been another five minutes later than her.

But the heat was the worst part. It was still unseasonably warm outside, the last strains of August bleeding into the beginning of September—and Kaoru highly suspected that some idiot had turned on the boiler in the basement already, because she could hear the radiator give a small clunk every now and then. Even with the ratty, paint-chipped windows pushed up as far as they would go to let in the sixth-floor breeze and the light sounds of traffic from the streets below, the air hung around them like a cloak, making it quite difficult to pay attention to anything but the sound of chalk scraping and squeaking against the blackboard.

So really, Kaoru could hardly be blamed for daydreaming a bit.

It didn't help at all that physics held no interest for her whatsoever. She had hoped to take something a little easier on the brain for her general education science requirement, but the physics class was the only one that fit into her schedule this semester, and she wanted to get it off her list. It also didn't help that the graduate TA who was teaching the recitations was a uniquely gorgeous specimen of a man.

He had a relatively small frame, barely taller than hers, but she could tell even through the rumpled and rolled up sleeves of his button-down shirt that he was strong and quite well-defined—especially for a physics teacher. The professor for the class, who gave his lectures in one of the larger halls once a week, was over sixty and had a belly that strained the buttons of his fussy brown sweater to the breaking point, so Kaoru had not expected much from her TA in the looks department. But this man, with his strong slender fingers, long red hair, and cheerful violet eyes was really…something else.

She found her gaze following the line of his throat to the dent of his clavicle as he reached up to write a series of complicated equations on the blackboard. She saw his Adam's apple bobbing up and down beneath the smooth skin, heard his mellow voice explaining something or other to do with Newton's third law of motion, but she wasn't listening. In her mind she was running her fingers along the warm stretch of skin just inside his collar, then listening to his fevered exhale as she leaned in to press her lips to the juncture between his throat and his shoulder.

She felt his hands on her waist, one pulling her closer, the other sliding swiftly beneath the hem of her cotton shirt, unsticking it from the drops of sweat that had collected along her spine. She felt those long fingers gliding over each vertebra as he leaned in to kiss her neck, his breath warm and shallow against her damp skin. He kissed his way up her throat and along her jaw, hesitating for a moment just inches from her lips as she silently begged him to come closer—and then his lips closed over hers, and she leaned into him, trapping him between her body and the blackboard. His kisses grew hungrier, a sound like a growl rumbling low in his throat as he dragged her knee up over his hip, desperate to get closer.

There was a shuffling of papers and a flurry of activity around her, and Kaoru jerked herself free of the daydream. She realized somewhat belatedly that the TA had replaced the chalk on the rail at the bottom of the board and was dusting off his hands, the rest of the students already gathering up their books and papers and beginning to trail out of the room. Kaoru hurried to do the same, stuffing a few loose sheets into her textbook and getting up to slide everything back into her shoulder bag. Just as she was heading for the door, already the last to leave, his voice called out to her from behind.

"Oh, wait."

She stopped in her tracks, hesitating just long enough to curse herself before turning back with an attempt at a casual smile. She had to consciously remind herself not to focus too much on his lips or his throat or his eyes or—really any part of him, actually. He was very pretty.

"Yes?" she said.

"Sorry to keep you," he replied with a sheepish smile, looping the strap of his messenger bag over his head. "Do you know where the Carlson Building is?"

"Um," Kaoru mumbled, frowning slightly in thought, "I think it's down on 3rd Street. If you walk over to MacDougal and then hang a right and carry on about two blocks I think you'll find it. But don't quote me on that."

"Thanks," he said, "I'll give it a try."

"New around here?" she asked, before he had a chance to leave, and before she could stop herself.

He nodded. "My first week. I'm still getting my bearings."

Kaoru grinned. "I know, it can be a little confusing, can't it. This building alone is practically a labyrinth. I've been here two years and I still got lost this morning."

"So it wasn't just me?" he said wryly, and she laughed lightly.

"No, believe me, it's not just you. Anyway, if you ever need help finding your way around, I'm your girl." Inwardly she kicked herself even as she said it. Not just for the turn of phrase, but for the offer itself. _Stop hitting on the teacher_, she admonished.

"Thanks, I'll remember that," he said politely, not revealing any awareness of impropriety as he moved toward the door. She followed him out into the hallway, and they walked together down the winding path back out to the elevator.

"Hopefully they'll get the climate control worked out before tomorrow's class," he said, pulling innocently at the front of his shirt to air himself out in a manner that made Kaoru nearly drool. She caught herself melting at his side and straightened up, clearing her throat and studiously looking up at the floor-indicator for the elevator, willing it to arrive sooner. "Yeah, it's pretty bad, isn't it?"

"At least we know we'll be warm in the winter."

"Not necessarily," Kaoru said wryly. "They only turn the boilers on in the summers."

The TA chuckled at that, and she felt a little flutter in her chest at the sound. And then she immediately kicked herself again.

They rode down to the first floor, and the TA gave her a little wave as he stepped out into the lobby, heading for the main doors. She waved back and wandered off to the side, busying herself with something in her bag so that she could let him get a little ahead of her. When he had disappeared around the corner out onto the street, she heaved a sigh and hitched her shoulder strap back up onto her shoulder, walking across the lobby and pushing through the doors back out onto the sidewalk glumly.

She had a crush. Second day back, and she already had a crush. This was going to be _so_ uncomfortable.

It occurred to her as she moseyed down the street, wallowing in self-pity and dread of the semester to come, that she hadn't even bothered to catch his name. Stepping out of the flow of pedestrian traffic and over next to the wall of the building, she dug through her bag again and pulled out the class syllabus, skimming it for the name of the teaching assistant.

Himura. Kenshin Himura.

* * *

As Kaoru pushed her way into the coffee shop by the corner of the park, she breathed in the relief of decent air conditioning at last. The line was long, wrapping halfway through the maze of couches and armchairs that filled the art-housey space, but at least she could stand in it in the cool air. Her second class of the day had been just as sweltering as the first—though at least the middle-aged woman who taught Kaoru's English seminar had inspired much less interesting daydreams…

Once she'd picked up her iced coffee, she circled around the end of the counter to find Sano, Megumi, Aoshi, and Misao already occupying their usual spot at a pair of couches that surrounded a low table back in the corner. Ostensibly everyone was there to study, but Aoshi was the only one really taking that idea seriously. Sano had his arm around Megumi's waist and was nuzzling her neck, clearly trying to goad her into snapping her pencil in half and punching him in the face—their usual game. Misao on the other hand had an open textbook in her lap and a half-filled notebook open on top of it, but she was talking quite animatedly to the rest of them about something she'd overheard at a bar the night before, her hand on Aoshi's knee and her work going completely ignored. Aoshi sat quietly beside her, reading his textbook yet somehow still managing to nod in all the right places to satisfy his end of their conversation.

Kaoru slumped down onto the end of Sano and Megumi's couch, crossing her ankles on the floor in front of her and leaning back into the cushions.

"Hey, Kaoru!" Misao said brightly, changing directions mid-story. Her smile faltered as she recognized her friend's consternation. "Uh oh—what's up?"

"Hm?" Kaoru blinked. "Oh. Um. Nothing."

"Right," Misao said, totally unconvinced. "Are we going to play the game, or are you just going to come out and tell us what's bothering you?"

Kaoru glanced around at all of them. Sano and Megumi had stopped cuddling/bickering and were now looking at her as well. Aoshi just continued to read, but he seemed relieved to no longer have to pretend he was paying attention.

"It's nothing, alright?" she insisted, feeling herself blush as she was put on the spot.

They all replied with identical expressions of skepticism.

Kaoru sighed and slumped back against the couch again. "It's my physics TA."

"Ooh, ouch," Sano said. "Nightmare, huh?"

Kaoru winced. "Not exactly. More like a dream."

Megumi raised an eyebrow at this, suddenly fully engaged. "How so?"

"He's…adorable," Kaoru admitted finally. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to remember the way his collar shifted when he raised his arm to write on the board. "I'm terrible at physics to begin with, but I'm definitely going to fail at this rate. I didn't catch a word he said today, and I didn't even notice the class had ended because I was so…distracted. Every time I look at him I just want to—"

"Find out if a body in motion tends to stay in motion?" Megumi teased.

Kaoru whacked her lightly on the arm, but the other woman only laughed. "I'm serious," Kaoru grumbled. "This is an actual problem."

"Problem?" Misao said. "It doesn't sound like a problem to me. Or if it is, it's one that's easily solved."

Kaoru frowned. "How so?"

Misao and Megumi exchanged a pitying look, and Kaoru narrowed her eyes at them, annoyed by their condescension.

"Hello?" she said. "Let me in on the secret."

Megumi rolled her eyes at Kaoru. "Isn't it obvious? Just sleep with him."

Kaoru stared from one to the other, half expecting Misao to be as thrown by this suggestion as she was—but no such luck. "He's a teacher," she said, pointing out the obvious.

"He's a graduate assistant," Megumi corrected. "It's not the same thing."

"But he's still my teacher," Kaoru said. "He's still grading assignments and he's still getting paid—it's got to be against the rules one way or another."

"And that's a bad thing?" Misao said coyly.

"Misao!" Kaoru scolded.

"Kaoru, relax," Megumi dismissed. "You see, this is why it would be good for you to go after this guy. You need to loosen up a little. You worry too much."

"Well sorry if I don't think throwing myself at a teacher is the best way to loosen up," Kaoru pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Besides, what if he's not interested? Talk about an awkward situation."

"But you'll never know until you try, will you?" Misao said. "And anyway, you shouldn't sell yourself short. Who says he won't be interested?"

"She's right, Jou-chan," Sano added. "Any guy would jump at a chance with you." Megumi elbowed him in the ribs, and he chuckled, adding, "Except me, of course."

"Yeah, well, be that as it may, I'm just not that kind of girl," Kaoru said, taking a sip of her iced coffee. And she knew it was true—she wasn't that kind of girl. She'd never been that kind of girl. For the most part it didn't bother her—she liked her space and her independence, and relationships had always taken a backseat to other priorities. She didn't even mind too much being the fifth wheel around their group of friends, because even though they were all neatly paired off they never made her feel unwelcome. And it was easier not to have to deal with someone else's needs all the time—she could just focus on her own life. At least that was what she told herself.

But there were definitely times when it got lonely. There were definitely times when she wished she could be close to someone, feel a man's hands against her skin. She'd been with men before, but the occasions had been few and far between, and only the first one had been anything like a relationship—her high school boyfriend. But he was halfway across the country now, and they'd fallen out of touch. She was all on her own these days.

As Sano and Megumi went back to not-studying and Misao started pestering Aoshi about their plans for the weekend, Kaoru found her mind drifting back to the classroom on the sixth floor and the imagined feeling of Kenshin Himura's hands on her sweat-dampened skin. This time he twisted so that she was beneath him, her back pressed to the cool surface of the metal desk as he covered her with his body, his kisses trailing down below the scooped collar of her shirt.

She shook herself out of it before the daydream could carry itself any further, reminding herself that he was her teacher, and she needed to keep her mind out of the gutter if she was going to avoid making a fool of herself in front of him—not to mention failing her science requirement. But nonetheless, even sitting here in the well-cooled coffee shop she could feel a light sheen of sweat sticking to the back of her neck.

* * *

It was the end of his teaching day and the sky was beginning to darken, the sun long since hidden behind the concrete jungle that surrounded the campus—but Kenshin Himura was not on his way home just yet.

Instead he was walking back up the two blocks from the Carlson building, past the CAS building, taking a left again and carrying on until he was walking past the northern edge of the park. This street was lined with old brownstones, once expensive residences that had now been converted into even more expensive residences and administrative offices for the university. When he was about halfway down the block, he glanced both ways and cut across the street, mounting the steps up to the front entrance of number thirteen and punching in the code to unlock the door. There was a brief buzzing sound from within, and the handle turned under his grip, allowing him to swing the door inward and enter the building.

The wooden floor creaked under his feet as he walked down the narrow hallway. His office—which he shared with a few other graduate assistants—was on the floor below down in the basement, but he didn't turn to take the stairs down in that direction. Instead he rounded the corner to a narrow stairway leading up.

Most of the staff had left the building by now, but he moved silently nonetheless, eyes narrowed in the dim, ears listening keenly for anyone on the approach. He heard someone typing in one of the offices halfway along the hall, but nothing else, not even the creak of floorboards above or below where he stood. When he reached the end of the hall, he paused, listening carefully through the heavy mahogany door in front of him for any indication that the office's owner was still inside.

Nothing.

Casting one more glance over his shoulder down the hallway, Kenshin reached into his pocket and retrieved the duplicate key he'd been given by the handler. Slipping it into the lock, he turned it carefully, wincing at the sound of the aged tumblers sliding back—but they did indeed give, and soon he was in, closing the door just as quietly behind him.

The office was dark, but he didn't dare turn on the light in case anyone saw it shining underneath the doorway. What little light he had to work with came through a pair of tall, curtained windows that looked out over a hidden courtyard garden at the center of the block. The twilight was fading fast, so he knew he had to work quickly. He moved over to the heavy wooden desk and began silently shifting through drawers, flipping through stacks of papers and carefully replacing them exactly as he'd found them. When he didn't find what he was looking for, he turned around to start on the filing cabinet—but he had to give up on that halfway through the B's. It was just too dark. He'd have to remember to bring a penlight or something next time.

Sliding the drawer of the filing cabinet closed again, he silently crossed back to the door of the office and listened once more for any sign of passersby. When he was certain there was no one there to see him, he eased open the door once more and slipped back out into the hallway, closing and locking the office door behind him once again. As soon as he had made it back to the main floor, he breathed a small sigh—half in relief, half in frustration. It had been a wasted trip—but then, he supposed if the job were going to be that easy, they wouldn't have asked him to do it.

Back out on the street again, Kenshin shoved his hands into his pockets and fingered the duplicate key as he made the long walk back to his apartment, already planning his next approach. He was half tempted to stay up for a few hours and do a little more research, but it had been a long day—and after all, the cover had to be preserved. He had a 9 a.m. recitation in the morning, and it would be better for all concerned if he were well rested when he showed up.

As he passed underneath a rumbling air-conditioner, he remembered the sweltering classroom that morning, and his conversation with that pretty young woman who had sat near the door. _They only turn the boilers on in the summer…_

The corner of his lips tilted upwards with a smile.

* * *

**A/N:** Full disclosure, this story was vaguely inspired by a story I read years ago called _Cabana Boy_, by Kiesmoon. It's no longer posted on this site, but I think you can still find it elsewhere if you search. Also, the setting of this story is essentially NYU—because that's where I went to school, so that's what I think of when I think of a university campus. Many of the details are invented, though—I'm just sort of using that campus as a mental model.

Reviews are always appreciated!


	2. Centripetal Force

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to all those who reviewed the first chapter (and even those who didn't… ;) I know I don't always respond, but your notes really do make my day.

By the way, to the anonymous reviewer who mentioned Takeru Sato (a.k.a. "live-action Kenshin") as a model for the physical descriptions in the first chapter…funny you should say that. I've thought about using his mental image instead of the manga version of Kenshin in the writing of this story, but I'm afraid I might not manage to finish writing it if I did. I'd be too busy melting into a puddle of goo on the floor every time he moved, spoke, or…y'know…existed. Tiny bit obsessed with him right now… ;)

**Hot For Teacher**

_Chapter 2: Centripetal Force_

The weather was not on Kenshin's side these days.

It had continued to be unseasonably warm for the first half of September, and as Kaoru had predicted on that first day, the building super clearly hadn't gotten his act together yet. Even Kenshin sometimes caught himself zoning out at the front of the class, and he at least was standing up—on more than one occasion he noticed a student's eyelids take a rather long blink, or a head catch itself just before it hit the desk. He might have taken it personally if he weren't so aware that he probably would have been snoring in the back row after the first five minutes of class if their positions were reversed. And the fact that he'd been up late nearly every night doing research didn't help matters any.

It also didn't help that his attention kept drifting to one student in particular. She always sat at the end of the semicircle of desks nearest the door, so she was always there, hovering in the corner of his eye. He kept noticing the way her long, dark ponytail fell forward over her shoulder as she leaned over her textbook, or the way her fingers moved as she brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face. Whenever she looked up, he was careful not to meet her eyes—but he could feel her gaze on his face like a touch, as if every time she blinked her eyelashes grazed against his cheek. And sometimes, when the air was truly sweltering and his mind was muddled with facts and figures he'd been poring over the night before, he caught himself starting to imagine things he absolutely shouldn't. Especially when he was standing in front of a classroom full of students.

She was an undergraduate, he reminded himself firmly. That made her twenty-two years old at most—at best she was eight years younger than him, possibly more than that. And she was a student—_his_ student. His particular situation notwithstanding, as far as she and the university were concerned he was no different than any other graduate teaching assistant, and this was no different than any other class. She was paying tuition just like anybody else, and he was drawing a salary for teaching her. He had a responsibility to everyone involved to do this job properly—and thinking about her that way was just asking for trouble.

Anyway, even if he put the whole teacher-student question aside, it was still a bad idea. Even worse, in fact.

He glanced from the textbook in his hand back up to the blackboard and realized he had switched equations halfway through writing out the example solution. He covered his mistake with a sheepish smile, grumbling inwardly as he erased the last few figures hastily and started over. He tried to concentrate on the scrape of the chalk against the blackboard and not on the shape of her smooth, pale calf, bouncing lightly in his peripheral vision as she studied her notes, her legs crossed at the knee.

This was going to be a long semester.

* * *

The coffee shop was crowded as usual for a weekday afternoon, but Kaoru's gang had still managed to snag their usual couches. She was beginning to suspect that Aoshi just slept here at night, because she rarely seemed to see him anywhere else, and he was always here by the time she arrived even if the others weren't. Either he lived here or he was just incredibly diligent and self-directed about his studies. Probably the latter, but she was still thoroughly amused by the image of Aoshi still sitting silently on the couch with a textbook on his lap when the staff turned out the lights and locked up for the evening.

Not for the first time she found herself wondering how he had ended up with Misao, of all people. But then they do say that opposites attract…

Over the crowded chatter, Kaoru dimly heard the barista over at the counter call out a name that sounded like hers.

"Oh," Megumi said, starting to rise from the couch, "that's us."

Kaoru motioned for her to stay seated and got up instead, as she was on the end anyway. "Don't worry, I'll get it."

"Thanks, Kaoru," Megumi called after her.

Kaoru tossed a smile over her shoulder as she walked to the pickup counter. As she reached for one of the coffee cups sitting there, another hand accidentally closed on top of hers. She looked up—and nearly had the wind knocked out of her.

Kenshin.

_Himura_, she corrected herself. Not that he'd asked them to call him that, but it made it easier not to swoon. Marginally.

Her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment, her mind gone blank—but he smiled in that easy, sheepish way of his.

"Sorry," he said, "I thought that one was mine."

"Oh," she said. "Well, it might be, I just assumed—"

"No, no, it's probably yours." He reached out to push it toward her.

"Well let's just check if—"

But then Kaoru accidentally put her hand over his. As soon as she realized what she'd done, she snatched it away again as if she'd been burned.

He smiled at her again, pretending not to notice.

"I think it's yours," Kaoru said finally, not quite able to meet his eyes, too busy scolding herself for her idiocy.

"Really?" he said, peering at the name on the side of the cup. The handwriting was messy, but there was definitely an "i" in there somewhere. "So it is," he concurred, picking it up off the counter and taking a cautious sip.

They both hesitated for a moment, Kaoru racking her brain for a graceful way to continue the conversation and Kenshin looking for a graceful exit. Kaoru's eyes swept over his face, then darted away again as she tried to think of something interesting to say.

That black t-shirt really suited him. Made his hair stand out like coal fire. And it fit really nicely over his shoulders…

_Stop it_, she admonished herself.

"Well," he said, starting to go, "I guess I'll see you in class then, Kaoru."

"Would you like to join us?" Kaoru blurted out before he was more than half a step away. He glanced back at her curiously. "My friends and I," she clarified in a slightly less frantic tone of voice, nodding toward the group over by the couches. "There's plenty of room."

He followed her gaze past her shoulder to the gang sitting on the couches, his usual cheerful expression slipping to reveal a vague concern that spoke of other things on his mind. Her stomach clenched, and she kicked herself for opening her stupid mouth. Was she being too forward? Had his polite friendliness been only that—politeness? Or was he actually interested, but worried about the whole student/teacher thing?

Teacher!

She had just asked her teacher to come hang out with them at the coffee shop. What was she thinking? Of course he had better things to—

"Okay," he said finally, giving a small nod and a slightly tentative smile.

_Okay?_

Kaoru blinked a couple of times—then suddenly realized she was staring at him like a fish out of water and put on a smile. Not that it was all that difficult, aside from the fact that her heart kept thumping just slightly too hard in her chest and she had the awful feeling her ears were turning red. She grabbed her and Megumi's drinks off the counter and led the way back over to the gang, Kenshin trailing behind her.

"It's about time," Megumi muttered wryly as she approached, her attention still focused on her notebook. "What took you so—"

But she broke off when she looked up and saw the redhead standing at Kaoru's shoulder, her mouth falling open slightly in appreciation.

"Everyone," Kaoru said a bit nervously, trying to ignore the blatant stares as the others took notice one by one, "this is Kenshin Himura. Kenshin, this is Megumi, Sano, Misao, and Aoshi."

Kenshin gave a small wave, and Megumi and Misao shared a gleefully conspiratorial glance across the coffee table. Kenshin pretended not to notice. Kaoru had to suppress the urge to drop her face into her hands.

Misao immediately hopped up from the couch to shake Kenshin's hand. "So nice to meet you! Sit down, please!" she said, indicating the couch she had just vacated. She took a seat by Megumi instead, very cleverly making sure that Kenshin and Kaoru would be forced to sit next to each other on the couch beside Aoshi. Kaoru gave her an "I saw that" look as she sat down beside Kenshin, but Misao merely returned an innocent smile.

"So," said Sano, addressing Kenshin, "you're a physics teacher, right?"

"Yes," Kenshin said, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "How did you know?"

"Jou-chan told us," Sano said.

"Jou-chan?" Kenshin repeated curiously.

"Kaoru," Sano clarified with a teasing grin in her direction. "We go way back."

Kaoru shot him a glare, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. Probably the latter.

* * *

Kenshin gave a heavy sigh as he closed the apartment door behind him, tossing his keys onto the occasional table to his left and leaning back against the creaking wood.

He shouldn't have said yes. Even as it was coming out of his mouth he'd known it was a stupid idea. He should have made an excuse and left the coffee shop, left her to go back to her friends without him. He'd known it would only aggravate an already unnecessary complication, and yet he had still agreed.

And it had been…nice.

It was rare that he had the chance to sit around and have a normal conversation with normal people these days. In his business, he didn't meet a whole lot of normal people. And they were a nice bunch—he could tell they were very close and knew each other well, and yet they had easily welcomed a stranger into their midst, even though he was nearly a decade older than they were. And for a little while he hadn't felt quite so old, or quite so alone. Not that he minded being alone—it was a life he'd chosen for himself a long time ago, and previous attempts to mitigate it had proven quite disastrous—but the change was nice.

Still, he shouldn't have done it.

He wasn't an idiot. He'd seen the way she looked at him. Other women had looked at him like that, and he had never had any trouble resisting them before. But then, none of them had been quite like her. There was something so open and genuine about her. Every thought that crossed her mind seemed to show on her face. He'd never known anyone with so few defenses. And he'd only spent a little time with her and her friends today, but even so it was obvious that everyone was neatly paired off except for her—and he got the impression it had been that way for a while. She seemed comfortable in her life, but she also seemed lonely. That was something he understood.

But even that was no excuse. He had a job to do, and then he would be gone. It was no good getting too attached to anyone or anything around here. It was easy to forget sometimes that his false lives were indeed that. False, and temporary.

Kenshin straightened up again and reached over into the corner of the entryway to pick up the sword tucked away there behind a couple of raincoats hanging on the wall. The coats weren't even his, they were just there to make the place look lived in if anyone happened by. The furniture wasn't his either, or the framed black and white photographs on the walls. Most of the drawers in the bedroom furniture were all but empty.

He lifted the sword in front of him and slid it partway out of its sheath, watching the overhead light reflect against the polished surface of the reversed blade.

Nope. No good falling for the fantasy. This was the only thing in the apartment that was real.

* * *

Kaoru double-checked the address on her class syllabus as she walked up the front steps to the brownstone by the park—this seemed to be the right place. Still, it seemed weird. She knew most of these brownstones were offices for the university, but she'd always assumed most of them were administrative, not workspace for individual TAs. She was pretty sure most of the science department professors had their office space in the McAllister building a few blocks away. But who knew with this place—in a school this size, she supposed pretty much anything could be anywhere.

She tried the door handle and found it locked. Glancing around with a frown, she located an intercom beside the door and pressed the button. The speaker crackled to life.

"Can I help you?" a woman's voice warbled through the static.

"Uh, yeah—I'm meeting with Mr. Himura, the physics TA?" she replied uncertainly.

The speaker fell silent and Kaoru jumped slightly when the door beside her started buzzing. It took her a second to realize someone must be buzzing her in, and she quickly tried the handle again. This time it opened easily.

The floor of the narrow entryway was old and a little uneven, but there was fresh paint on the walls and a couple of nice Persian rugs to muffle the creaking floor. A hallway led deeper into the building straight ahead, but a sign on the wall directed her down the stairs to her left to reach the assistants' offices. She peaked at the syllabus again for the office number as she tried to tread as quietly as possible on the stairs, not wanting to disturb anyone working. The place had a weird feeling to it, halfway between a library and somebody else's house.

She followed the hallway to the left at the bottom of the stairs, walking a little more easily now that she was on industrial-carpeted concrete rather than Persian-rugged wood. She glanced back and forth at the doors as she passed until she approached the one at the end of the hallway—office number ten, which stood slightly ajar, a triangle of florescent white light spilling out onto the dim gray floor.

She approached slowly. She couldn't actually see him through the crack in the door, but she knew he was in there—not just because these were his scheduled office hours, but because she could hear his nimble fingers clattering away at his computer keyboard. She wondered what he was typing. An email to a friend, maybe, or a brilliant thesis on some obscure aspect of physics that she couldn't possibly understand. Or maybe student evaluations…

No. It was probably just an attendance roster or a quiz he was drafting or something ordinary and dull and impersonal like that. In any case, it was better to proceed with that assumption, because she was going to have to speak to him face to face in a moment and that would be easier to do if she weren't distracted by romanticized thoughts of imaginary physics theses.

When exactly had the idea of a physics thesis become a romantic notion to her? She really needed to get her head on straight.

She lifted a hand and rapped her knuckles lightly on the door. Instantly the typing sounds stopped. "Come in," he called cheerfully. She pressed her lips together to scrounge up one last drop of courage, and then slipped around the side of the door, closing it behind her.

He really was too beautiful to be allowed, she thought as she watched him stand from his desk and tug his long, thick ponytail forward over his shoulder, fluffing his shirt against himself a couple of times. "Sorry for the heat," he said with a wry smile. "I guess the super hasn't fixed the air conditioning in this building either."

Kaoru stared at the collar of his shirt a moment longer than she should have before giving herself a light shake and snapping back to attention. "Oh—it's no problem. I'm used to it by now," she stammered, returning what she hoped was an easy smile.

He grinned back, but for a moment she thought she saw a funny look in his eye—like he had noticed what she had tried to hide. But then he had hidden his own expression just as quickly. "Please," he said, indicating a chair near one end of the desk, "sit down."

"Thanks," she said, taking the seat and shifting her shoulder bag onto her lap as he pulled his desk chair around and reseated himself next to her.

"What can I do for you?"

_Well for starters_… her rebellious mind began, but she cut off that train of thought before it could cause her any more trouble. "I'm having trouble with the equations for this week's assignment," she said instead, fishing out a notebook in which she had begun to rough out the necessary calculations. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment when he rolled his chair up closer to hers so he could look at the notebook right side up, and she felt the outside seam of his jeans brush against the side of her leg, just below the hem of her light summer skirt. He didn't seem to notice, and after a moment she carried on as if she hadn't either.

"See, I've tried solving for F by inputting the numbers from the example here," she said, carefully avoiding his gaze even as she subtly leaned toward him to point out the problem spots in her work, "but when I go through the process it always comes out way too high."

He nodded thoughtfully as he perused the page, one hand supporting the upper corner of the notebook on the side closest to him, and a lock of hair from his ponytail slipped back over his shoulder with the movement. The ends of his hair brushed feather-light across her bare shoulder as they passed, and it was all she could do not to shiver. As it was, her hand tightened marginally on her side of the notebook.

"You're missing what's right under your nose," he said with a little chuckle, and she glanced up at his profile with a startled blink—only to realize his eyes were still on the equation. Immediately she knew it had been a mistake to look at him, because now she could see how close he really was. Just six inches and she could press her lips against his flushed cheek. If he turned his head a little further in her direction, it would be even better. Or not—his earlobe looked quite delectable…

"…just have to remember to factor in the force of gravity and you'll be all set."

She blinked, realizing she'd just missed the crucial first half of his instructions. Cursing her overactive imagination yet again, she returned her attention to the page in front of her and followed his finger to the spot where she'd made her error. _Factor in the force of…oh!_

"Oh," she said, relieved that she'd been able to figure out what he'd suggested after all. She had missed out part of the equation—no wonder she kept getting the wrong answer. "I can't believe I did that—what a dumb mistake."

He grinned at her. "Don't worry, Kaoru—it happens to the best of us."

"I know, but here I came and bothered you and everything for something so silly," she said sheepishly, still frowning over the mistake.

"Not at all," he said cheerfully, "that's what office hours are for."

"Well, I really should have—" she began—but then she looked up at him again, and her heart tripped in her chest at the look in his eyes. He was staring at her the same way she'd been staring at him a moment before. He tried to cover it by glancing back down at the notebook as soon as she looked up, but it was too late. She'd caught him.

"Thank you," she said quietly, still staring at his profile—and this time she made little effort to stop herself. He seemed to be trying very hard to keep his attention focused on the notebook in his hand, but he also didn't seem to know what to say next.

Finally he gave in and glanced her way.

As soon as his eyes met hers, she leaned forward and kissed him. The moment after she started it she realized it was an insane move, and she was mortified when she felt him freeze solid, his breath catching in his throat. But she was more afraid of pulling back and having to look him in the eye than of staying where she was, so she lifted a hand to his cheek in a weak attempt to stop him from escaping.

After a brief moment of indecision she felt his lips part slightly, felt him lean into her a little, his mouth sliding hotly over hers. Relief flooded her veins, and she kissed him again, catching his lower lip between hers and sucking lightly. He tasted as good as he looked, and she loved the sound of his shortened breath as his own fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head just slightly to deepen the kiss.

The floor upstairs creaked loudly and he suddenly jerked back, looking up at the ceiling. Kaoru felt a little lightheaded and disoriented as she tried to catch her breath, but she couldn't tell whether it was from the heat or the kiss—probably a little of both. As his eyes tracked the footsteps on the floor above, she caught herself staring longingly at the soft V of tendons at the base of his throat and wishing she could close her mouth over that spot and suck at him until he gasped.

Really not a good idea.

"I should probably get going," she said, ducking her head and trying not to look at him as she put her notebook away.

"Yes," he said quickly, apparently both relieved and disappointed—though she might have been imagining the latter. "That might be best. I've got some work I have to finish up."

"Me too," she nodded, still fiddling with something in her purse as she stood, avoiding his gaze. She skirted around him, and he held open the door for her. Once she was out in the hallway, she allowed herself one slightly sideways look back up at his face. He was staring right back at her with a strange mixture of emotions, not all of them pleasant—but she was pretty sure she wasn't imagining the want in his eyes.

"I'll see you on Monday then," he said.

"Monday?"

"In class," he clarified.

"Oh," she said, giving herself another mental kick, "of course. See you on Monday."

He gave another short nod and a little apologetic smile, which she returned, and then he closed the door quietly between them. As soon as he was out of sight, her expression fell into a weary longing, and she heaved a silent sigh as she turned to walk back down toward the stairway at the end of the hall. This was really, really not helpful.

* * *

**A/N:** Another chapter down! Hope you enjoyed it—let me know what you think… ;)


	3. Angle of Reflection

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay! The good news is that I finished a big phase of a project I've been working on for nearly a year now, so I should be back to more timely updates for a while. Anyway, thanks again for all the lovely reviews! They really do give me a boost… ;)

**Hot For Teacher**

_Chapter 3: Angle of Reflection_

Kenshin was crouched over the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet with a penlight in his mouth, sifting through page after page of financial records and thinking about the young woman he'd been kissing in his basement office that afternoon. Unfortunately, these two activities were not very compatible.

He tried his best to concentrate on the rows and rows of numbers, skimming for key amounts that they had records of or names of "benefactors" to the school who were using known aliases—but he always seemed to lose his place about halfway down the page and instead start thinking about the soft, warm, sweet flavor of her mouth against his, and the way she had sighed against his tongue as he ran it along the edge of her lower lip.

He wanted her. That much was obvious. And why shouldn't he? She was a beautiful young woman. There must be plenty of men who wanted her. She surely met men every single day who would be much less hesitant than he to drag her into their arms and tear her clothes off at the slightest provocation. And she didn't even seem to know that. Despite her confident air and eclectic, casually feminine style, she seemed to have absolutely no idea how beautiful she was. How desirable she was. When she had kissed him that afternoon, he had been startled—but when he had leaned in to kiss her back she had seemed almost desperately grateful. As though she'd thought he would turn her away, consider her unworthy of his attention.

There was an irony in that.

Someone set down a coffee mug on top of a desk a few doors down from the darkened office of the bursar, and Kenshin glanced toward the sound sharply. He realized he'd shifted off his knee and actually sat down on the floor at some point, and was now staring blankly at the front of the filing cabinet with a stack of papers in one hand and the penlight hanging loosely from between his teeth. Scolding himself for getting distracted again, he pushed all thoughts of Kaoru aside and lifted the papers back up in front of his face, blinking a few times to bring the numbers into focus.

As least he finally seemed to have found the right drawer—these were definitely the financial records he was looking for, but there were so many of them it would have taken him months to search them all thoroughly. If only he could bring the whole drawer of them home with him to sift through at his leisure it would have been easy—but he had a feeling the bursar would get suspicious if he returned in the morning to find an entire drawer's worth of sensitive files missing. Anyway, he didn't really need to find every single instance of dirty money changing hands—all he needed was one or two solid examples implicating a relationship with certain key people, and ideally enough of a lead to take him to the next link in the chain. Still, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. A university of this size in such a large and wealthy city had a vast number of donors and an even greater number of expenses. Locating the few that suggested foul play would be difficult.

Had she really had difficulty with that physics problem, or had she made that mistake on purpose just to have an excuse to come speak with him? No, that was ridiculous—he'd known she was developing a crush on him, but he didn't really peg her as the type to manufacture a silly excuse like that. She was too straightforward for that nonsense. Anyway, her sheepishness at the simplicity of her mistake had been genuine. Still, some part of him rather liked the idea of her inventing an excuse just to come see him. Maybe even plotting the kiss itself.

He caught himself staring into space again and gave his head a shake, frowning back into concentration.

_Get a grip, Himura. You're acting like a mooning teenager. Just pass her a note during gym class and be done with it, alright? You have work to do._

He flipped through several more pages of financial records with little success before he finally ran across something of interest. Peering more closely at the tiny rows of numbers, he used the blade of his hand to line up the name with the payments and credits. It was definitely the same name—one of the shell corporations. Running his eyes across the line twice more just to make sure he wasn't mistaken, Kenshin quickly skimmed the rest of the page over again, looking for further useful information. This wasn't enough to get him very far on its own, as none of the amounts here matched any of the traced charges they knew had ended up in the hands of foreign arms dealers and revolutionary groups—but if he was reading this right, it was a big step forward from where he'd been ten minutes ago. At least he finally had proof of some connection between the school's alumni association and the syndicate, slight though it was.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway caught his attention, and Kenshin glanced up toward the doorway. The penlight illuminated the bottom of the closed door as he did so, and he quickly snatched it out of his mouth and switched it off, hoping whoever was out there hadn't seen the light flick by the narrow gap between the door and the floorboards.

As he listened to the footsteps walking steadily closer, his stomach clenched with the realization that whoever it was was headed right this way.

Flicking the crucial page off the top of the stack, he clamped it in his mouth and returned the rest of the pages to their proper file, closing the drawer as silently as he could. He was already sizing up the room for hiding places and escape routes as he folded up the paper and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans. Rolling swiftly to his feet, he dashed across to the nearest window and was relieved to find it unlocked. They were only on the second floor, so a jump would be possible if necessary, but not preferable. There was little risk of injury, but it would ultimately only trap him in the private courtyard, creating a whole new problem.

He slid the window open and hopped up onto the windowsill just as he heard a key being inserted into the lock. As he listened to the key being jiggled around irritably and carefully closed the window again behind him, he silently blessed this ratty old building and its horribly rusty locks. Straightening carefully on the outer windowsill, not sparing a glance for the ground, he sidestepped to the right-hand edge of the window and steadied himself against the brick with his right hand. Then he swung his left leg around to rest the sole of one foot on one of the supports of a nearby drainage pipe, pressing himself flush against the outer wall beside the window just as the light flipped on inside the office.

He could hear the distant creaking of the floor through the closed window, the shuffling of papers on the desk—but he didn't really breathe a sigh of relief until he heard the chair squeak under the weight of its owner as he settled down to work.

He had avoided detection for the moment, but from the sound of things slipping out through the inside wasn't going to be an option for a while. The courtyard was still a possibility, though it would be easier to judge the landing if he were facing out from the building—and he couldn't manage that without breeching the sightlines of the window. And he didn't know who else might be looking out the window on the lower floor.

Leaning back his head a bit to avoid scraping his face on the brick, he looked toward the drainage pipe to his left. Easy enough to climb, assuming it was sturdy. He tested it gently with his foot, wincing slightly at a vague creaking sound, but it didn't seem about to give at any moment. Anyway, he was running out of options.

He reached out with his left hand to catch onto the pipe itself and shifted out from the wall just far enough to pull his right leg through and step up onto the next support. The pipe gave a disconcerting shiver as he hoisted himself up, but he ignored it, working quickly to shimmy up the pipe until he was high enough to climb up on top of the roof. Once there, he walked up the shallow slope to the peak of the roof at a slight crouch, watching the lights of the park and the evening pedestrians wink into view.

He wondered briefly if he was running a risk trying to climb down this face of the building, if maybe he would have better luck circling around to another portion of the block that didn't face the park—but then, this was New York. No one was looking up this high anyway, and even if they were they would ignore him. Weird things happened every day in this city—nobody paid attention to them anymore.

Still, he tried to stay in the shadows as he crept down to the eaves. From there it was relatively simple, as there was a lovely vine-covered trellis fixed to the side of the building leading down into a small square of bushes between the wall and the railing by the sidewalk.

Unfortunately, he didn't realize until he hopped down the last couple of feet from the trellis that the bushes were rose bushes.

He winced as the thorns scratched up his arms and poked through his thin cotton t-shirt, wriggling around and trying to fish his way out toward the sidewalk without slicing the crap out of himself. Finally he managed to grab hold of the railing and heave himself up onto the stone wall beside the front steps. Vaulting over the iron railing, he only faltered a bit as he landed on the sidewalk.

An unfortunate young couple who looked like students from the university reared back as he appeared about six inches in front of them. He tried to give them a disarming smile as the woman swept her eyes over him in alarm, and it occurred to him that he must look a mess, covered in scratches with twigs and leaves caught in his long, thick hair. The couple gave him a wide berth as they hurried on their way, and the smile slipped wearily off his face as they passed.

So much for keeping a low profile.

Heaving a sigh, he reached up to begin fishing the twigs out of his hair as he turned to walk the opposite direction down the sidewalk, heading back toward his apartment. It was days like this that made him really hate his job.

_Still_, he thought darkly, _could be worse…_

A slight frown darkened his brow at that thought, and he tried to shrug it aside. No sense in dwelling on that right now.

He had work to do.

* * *

The door to Kaoru's right opened suddenly and Megumi poked her head out. "Is something burning?" she asked urgently.

Kaoru blinked at her—then glanced down at the pot she'd been stirring. "Oh!" she started, pulling it off the burner quickly. She wrinkled her nose as she stared down into it, trying to scrape the charred remains of her spaghetti sauce off the sides of the small pot. When had it gotten all black like that? She'd been right here the whole time. Well, physically anyway.

Mentally she'd been somewhere in the basement of a brownstone on Washington Square North reliving a few things that had happened that afternoon…and imagining a few things that hadn't.

"Wow," Megumi muttered as she peered over Kaoru's shoulder. "I knew you weren't any great shakes at cooking, but this is a new low."

"Can it, Megumi," Kaoru muttered as she shoved the saucepan into the sink and turned on the faucet, giving it up for lost.

Megumi crossed her arms over her chest and rested one hip against the small kitchen counter in their dorm apartment. Kaoru could feel her speculative gaze burning into her cheek, but she didn't look up. "Something the matter?"

"No," she said, a little too quickly.

"That's a yes if I ever heard one. What happened, fail an exam or something?"

"It's only October," she pointed out.

Megumi shrugged. "A midterm then."

"It's not a school thing," Kaoru said, though she kicked herself for it the moment the words were out of her mouth.

"Ah-ha!" Megumi said, pinning her with a triumphant grin. "So there is something, is there?"

"Megumi…"

"Ah-ah-ah—you're not getting away that easily, Tanuki," her roommate teased, reaching out to tug on Kaoru's ponytail. Kaoru batted her hand away and shot her a glare, though it didn't have much power behind it. That was what she hated about Megumi—she could always see ten steps ahead, and she never seemed to give up once she'd gotten something stuck in her craw.

"It's nothing," Kaoru insisted, scrubbing at the blackened residue of her catastrophic failure of a sauce. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Well if you don't want to talk about it, it's clearly not nothing, is it?" Megumi prodded.

"Lay off, will you?"

Megumi opened her mouth to retort, but a knock at the door interrupted her. "Damn," Megumi grumbled. "That'll be Sano. Let him in, will you? I just have to finish my mascara."

Kaoru sighed her relief as Megumi ducked back into her room, and she wiped off her hands on a nearby dishtowel as she crossed over to open the door for Sano.

"Hey, Jou-chan," he said with a grin—though it slipped off his face the moment he walked in the door, his attention drawn to the mess at the stove. "Whoa," he said, sniffing the charcoaled air, "glad I missed dinner…"

"Very funny." She threw the damp dishtowel at his stomach. He laughed and caught it before it rolled to the floor, tossing it onto the small kitchen table that filled most of the common space between the two bedrooms.

"So," he said as he leaned back against the edge of the table, watching Kaoru try to salvage the pot, "how are things with the Absentminded Professor?"

"What?" Kaoru whipped around so fast she accidentally flicked soap suds across the floor, and Sano nudged sideways a few inches to avoid getting hit.

"Hey," he said, looking from the suds up to Kaoru, "you okay?"

"Why does everybody keep asking me that?" she sighed, returning to scouring the pot.

"Because you're acting like a crazy person?" Sano ventured.

She shot him a look, and he flashed a grin in response.

"All ready!" Megumi announced, sweeping back into the common room as she hitched her small purse onto her shoulder. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah, sure," Sano said, standing again and opening the door to allow Megumi through. "Hey," he said, pausing in the doorway until Kaoru glanced back at him. There was a note of genuine concern in his eyes. "You sure you're okay?"

Kaoru gave him a genuine, if weary, smile. "Yes, I'm sure. Go on, get out of here before I turn the sprayer on you."

Sano nodded and smiled back before letting the door fall closed behind him.

When it did, Kaoru sagged against the edge of the sink. She stared down into the ruined pot. Not like it was any big loss—just one of those cheapo ones from K-mart. She could pick up a replacement on her way home from class tomorrow. But it wasn't the pot that was bothering her. What was bothering her was that she really, really, in her heart of hearts, wanted something she couldn't (and shouldn't!) have…and she didn't know what to do about it. Except…maybe to do something about it.

But that was a bad idea. Right?

She sighed and rinsed the soap suds off of her hands. To hell with cooking—tonight was a takeout night. Then she could hole up at her desk and bury herself in homework and maybe eventually it would all be enough to make her forget how much she loved the feeling of touching him, of just being close to him—and how much closer she wanted to get.

* * *

This week's staff meeting with Dr. Larson had taken almost a half an hour longer than usual. Kenshin suspected the professor could have gone on for at least another hour after that if one of the other graduate assistants hadn't pointed out that he had a recitation to teach in fifteen minutes. The others had all made a hasty retreat toward the back entrance to the building as soon as they'd been released, but Kenshin had turned to walk toward the front entrance at a more leisurely pace, just so he wouldn't be caught up in conversation on the way out. Not that he was against the idea of socialization in general, but too much one-on-one interaction with those around him when he was in these kinds of situations tended to lead to awkward problems.

Case in point.

Kenshin sighed, eyes sliding past small workout rooms full of aerobics classes and kickboxing classes and dance practices as he strolled through the center of the sports complex. (If there was one thing he'd learned since coming here, it was that nothing ever took place where it seemed it ought to. Due to remodeling on the floors of the science building that housed the Physics department, their weekly meetings had taken place everywhere from the library to the sports center to the black box auditorium.) He had nearly gotten through the entire meeting without thinking about Kaoru. But then one of the other graduate assistants had brushed her ponytail over her shoulder with the end of her pen in such a familiar way that it sent a little flutter through the pit of his stomach. And then he hadn't been able to think about anything else.

Kenshin drew to a halt as he came upon an empty workout room. The lights were on and the door was propped open, but there was no evidence that anyone intended to use it at the moment. On a whim, he wandered over the threshold and shrugged off his messenger bag, dropping it on the floor beside the near wall. Then he walked over into the center of the room and glanced around at the smooth, polished wood floors and the incongruous whitewashed cinderblock walls. There was a row of mirrors with a dance beam along one wall, a crate of assorted equipment for indoor sports stored off in the corner, a stack of yoga mats and other aerobics aids next to that.

He smiled a little to himself as he breathed in the faint scent of sweat and plastic and air freshener, feeling the slight vibrations in the floor from the Tae-Bo class that was taking place next door. Not quite like home, but close enough. If he listened hard, he almost felt he could hear the clatter of a dozen shinai being whacked against each other from a distant dojo.

His eyes fell on the crate of sports equipment reflected in the mirror opposite him. He glanced toward it over his shoulder, perusing the assortment of basketballs, hockey sticks, and other mismatched pieces with interest. Pressing his lips together for a moment, he darted a glance back toward the open doorway—no one out in the corridor. And other than the people in the classes, he hadn't encountered anyone else since leaving the meeting.

His mind made up, he walked over to the stack of equipment and fished through it for a few moments before pulling a suitable lacrosse stick from the middle of the pile. Then he returned to the center of the room, the lacrosse stick in his left hand with his grip up near the basket end, and after only a moment's hesitation settled into a perfect battoujutsu stance.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Shifting his grip to his right hand, he drew the lacrosse stick at lightning speed and launched into a complicated sequence of movements.

Right, left, Ryu-sho-sen.

"_You're still too slow, baka deshi."_

Turn, one-handed-backflip, Ryu-kan-sen.

"_Twenty more. If you can't get it right at least ten times out of twenty, you're not eating tonight."_

Left, roll, Sou-ryu-sen.

"_What's the point, Shishou? What's the point of learning all this if I can't do anything to help anyone?"_

Right, duck, uppercut, Ryu-sou-sen.

"_Fine—do whatever the hell you want. But be sure it's the right choice. Because if you leave now, I don't ever want to see your face again."_

Right, left, Ryu-tsui-sen.

"_I didn't teach you the Hiten Mitsurugi just to watch you throw it away."_

As Kenshin crouched on the floor with the lacrosse stick held out in front of him, panting only slightly to catch his breath, he heard a slow, steady clap coming from somewhere behind him. He straightened quickly and whirled around, belatedly trying to hide the lacrosse stick behind his back.

"If that's how you play lacrosse, maybe I ought to give the sport another chance," Sano said with a smirk. He was standing in the doorway to the classroom with a basketball perched between his elbow and his hip, his bangs slightly spiked with sweat.

Kenshin opened his mouth to speak, but his mind drew a complete blank. He was a little unnerved by the fact that Sano had managed to sneak up on him in the first place. Either he'd been more lost in his thoughts than he'd realized, or he had underestimated this guy's capability. Possibly a little bit of both.

"Actually," Sano continued, seemingly unconcerned by Kenshin's speechlessness, "I'm sort of glad I ran into you. There's something I'd like to talk to you about. Let me buy you a cup of coffee."

Something about the look in Sano's eyes told him it probably wouldn't be a good idea to refuse.

* * *

**A/N:** Am I the only one who finds the image of Kenshin practicing the Hiten Mitsurugi with a backwards lacrosse stick quite funny…?

Yeah, I thought so. Just checking. ;)

Let me know what you think!


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